


I honestly don't know what to title this.

by evanfire



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Chref, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18423636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanfire/pseuds/evanfire
Summary: Chris falls ill and gives Chef a scare.(Chref fluff/kind of a sickfic? idk.)I enjoyed writing this, but I feel like it's a little cheesy. I hope you enjoy it anyway! ....





	I honestly don't know what to title this.

**Author's Note:**

> To whom it may concern: I don't think I have the skill or attention span to write a muti chapter fanfic. So from now on, I may only write short one-off type fics like this one. (When I find the inspiration)

It was a warm spring night on the island of Wawanakwa. The campers were asleep, the interns snoozed in their tents. It was a peaceful night, where the entire world seemed to be at a calm rest. But a small cabin in the corner of the island still emitted a yellowish light, breaking the tranquil blackness of the night. Robert "Chef" Hatchet locked the windows and doors of the compacted, cozy cabin. "Just in case", he said to his secret lover who was waiting for him. His tan, muscular, bare body draped over the dark azure sheets.

Chef towered over Chris Mclean and undressed. He climbed into the bed. Suddenly, Chris winced in pain.

Chef raised his eyebrows, perplexed. This hadn't been the first time that they had done this. So it surely couldn't be shock or stress. Chef gently patted his lover's shoulder. "You ok, man?"

Chris put his hand on his abdomen. He began to sweat. "Y-yeah. Just keep going. I'll be fine."

"Chris, you look pale."

"I don't!"

"Listen, it's fine. Really. Just get some rest, ok?"

"Fine..."

Chef kissed him on the cheek.

# # #

Chef awoke to the blaring beep of the alarm clock. Chris was still snoring. He was exhausted. Chef heard him get up several times to run to the bathroom. (Though he didn't let Chris know he was awake. Chris was the type of person who didn't like it when people were concerned about him.)

Chris usually got up at 6 am to go for a run before the show started. But Chef decided to let him rest. He walked to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. He sat on the velvet armchair and began to read.

About an hour later, Chef heard Chris stumble out of bed. Chef walked down the hall to check on him.

Chris was still in his pajamas, a little groggy. He stumbled to the dresser. Chef watched him throw on a shirt and pants. Chef paused, and stood at the doorway wondering what to say to him.

"Hey Chris? Why don't you rest some more? I'll use my military training on those kids again, don't worry about it."

"I'M FINE!- oh! Oh god!" Just as his temper was about to make him explode, he doubled over in pain. He clenched the bed frame to keep from falling. He pushed Chef aside and ran down the hall. He nearly fell on the toilet. He lurched forward and spewed the contents of last night's dinner.

Chef ran to his lover and knelt beside him. He patted his back, then stroked his hair. He realized Chris was burning up, and grew even more concerned.

Chris was breathing heavily, a single tear fell down his face. "I... I haven't been drinking again. I swear."

"I know," Chef said, as he embraced him. "Just let me handle everything today, ok?"

"No... I... I think I'm ok now..." He got up, then looked at his watch, he ran out the door, muttering something about how "the show must go on."

Chef followed behind him.

# # #

As usual, Chris and Chef gathered the contestants and explained the challenge.

Luckily, it was a simple scavenger hunt that didn't need much explaining. Chris handed out maps and a list of items to each team, and sent them on their way.

Only a few minutes later, Chris fainted. Chef caught him just before he hit the ground. Memories came flooding back, like a massive waterfall hitting his brain. Memories of war, seeing young men like Chris bleed out before his very eyes. Panic overtook him and he couldn't think. He looked down at Chris in fear. He suddenly sprung into action again. He couldn't lose the love of his life. No! Not like this! Not now... He was still shaking, but he pulled out his phone and dialed 911. His voice was shaking so much he feared the operator wouldn't be able to understand him. But by some miracle, they did. The young woman said a helicopter world arrive as soon as possible.

He just hoped it would be soon enough...

Chef sat on the dock, Chris still unconscious, laying on his lap. Chef stroked his raven black hair and tried to keep his composer.

It felt like hours had passed, but really it was probably no more than 20 minutes. Then, Chef heard the all too familiar sound of helicopter blades beating the air. He looked at the sky.

# # #

It was all a blur. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a hospital room beside Chris. He had appendicitis and needed surgery. Chef gripped Chris' hand tightly. He would never tell anyone this, but he was terrified.

According to the doctors, Chris' appendix was close to bursting. He was still unconscious, and looked so... weak, yet peaceful. His face was an unusual rosy red, the shade usually only seen when Chef was kissing him, or being intimate with him in the late hours of the night.

His skin burned like a hot stove, but Chef couldn't let go of his hand.

The door creaked open, revealing a scrawny man in a white lab coat.

"Ah, you're his..." the doctor paused. "brother?"

"Sure..."

"I'll have to ask you to wait outside! There's no time to waste!"

Chef sighed, and briskly walked into the hallway. He watched as a team of nurses and surgeons rolled Chris away on a gurney.

Chef spent the next... (well, he didn't know how long. He lost track of time.) pacing around the waiting room.

# # #

Finally, Chef heard the shrill voice of the receptionist.

"Mr... Hatchet? Mr. Hatchet to the front desk, please."

The receptionist explained that Chris' surgery was a success, and that he could visit him if he liked. Not wasting another second, he briskly walked down the hall.

# # #

Chris was still asleep, but he looked much less like he was dying. (Much to Chef's relief.) Chef sat down on a chair beside the hospital bed. Less than a minute later, Chris slowly opened his eyes.

"Huh?... What happened...?"

In the moment, feeling the relief that Chris was alive and well, the pure joy of knowing he wouldn't lose him, all he could do was let out a laugh. (Which made Chris much more confused than he was already.) "Chris, man! They took out your appendix!"

"And that's funny... how?"

Chef blushed, and suddenly wrapped his arms around Chris. "I-I... I'm just glad you're ok, man."

Chris kissed his head, and hugged him back. A sudden realization hit him. "Wait... did you leave the campers alone on the island?!"

"Oh, shit!"


End file.
